Dance of the Damned

"The world is full of monsters with friendly faces." Micah Pober sat under a large oak tree listening as the birds chirped in the air while the wind blew back and forth, rustling through his white hair and paper coloured skin that almost seemed translucent in the sunlight. His all-white shirt matched his skin, hair and eyes as the boy listened with all his might at the babbling brook beside the tree and the rustle of leaves as the wind came back to play. He could hear the ducks moving in the grass under his bandage covered feet along with little insects, almost like he could feel the life of everything that exists in this little garden of his. The voices coming from inside the house pulled his attention away from the tranquillity of the place and into the big mansion made of polished marbles that is just behind the tree. "We have to do it today." A woman's voice said, frantic. "If we don't do it today, he will get the better of us." "I know, woman. I know!" A man replied, raising his voice at the woman, his tone sounded like he was very close to hitting her. But, since no screams followed, it seemed he was able to restrain himself. "When are you going to do it then?" She asked again, urging an answer from the man. "Are you not worried? I thought you were quick to answer. I thou-" "Shut up!" The man shouted as a resounding slap echoed throughout the house. Bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, I see. Micah thought, leaning back against the tree as he attempted to drown the talk of the two out by humming to himself. Just then, the melodic sound of a flute pulled his attention away from the growing irritation he felt and to a calmer atmosphere once again. "Better?" Another boy's voice suddenly appeared in front of him as a shadow cast over Micah but he didn't mind. "Of course." He said, holding his hand out as the other boy took it, squeezing it tight. "Your hand is cold. And you smell like spring but it is the middle of summer." This energetic boy that looked like the sun just showered all its golden rays on him with shoulder-length black hair is Briar Enger. He is the groundskeeper's son and a very good friend of Micah. The two knew each other from when Micah first moved into this house and remain close friends until now. The two were more like brothers than they were like friends. Both knew each other better than they knew themselves. In terms of distress or hurt, one can sense it almost instantly and would know just what to do to comfort the other. There is not another soul in the world that Micah trusted more than he did Briar. "I am the master of spring, after all." The boy said proudly, holding his nose up in the air while the other boy held onto his friend's hand, trying to absorb the coldness into his body. "Right," Micah said, cheerfully. "The one and only master of spring. How is your arm?" He reached for the boy's other arm, missing it as Briar held it away from his grasp. "Bradie." Micah scolded, reaching out to empty air as the boy chuckled, finally placing his hand in front of Micah's hand. "Sorry." As soon as Micah felt it, he squeezed the hand, making him shout in pain. "That's what you get for doing that," Micah said, sticking his tongue out at him. "I said sorry already." He mumbled, shaking his hand. "You are fifteen in a week and look at how you are behaving." "Should I be behaving like something else?" Micah asked playfully. "I am still a kid." "Didn't you wait all your life to turn fifteen?" Briar asked, sitting beside his friend as he placed the flute down beside him. "What about you, Bradie?" Micah asked, quickly changing the topic. "You are a good two years older than me. How is it being seventeen?" "Nothing is different really," Briar said, stretching as he rested his head back onto the tree's trunk. "Everything still feels the same. If you asked me." "I just did." Micah chuckled as Briar began to stammer over his world. "W-well, you are still younger than me. And I think you should show a little bit more respect." He said, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. "Should I address you as I do uncle Niam then?" Micah mused but Briar did not find anything funny in that statement. "I would rather you treat me like garbage than ever compare me to that man." He said, frowning. Then, with determination in his eyes, he shot up to his feet and declared. "I will protect you, Micah. I promise." "You will?" Micah asked, looking at him with a soft expression on his face. "What if you can't?" "I will be able to." He said firmly, taking Micah's hand in his. "I promise." "Well, aren't you an optimistic one?" Micah said brightly, pulling his friend closer. "Let me ask you this, will you be willing to give your life for me?" "Of course," Briar said with no hesitation as he smiled like the sun. "Anything you ask of me, I will do." "Yeah, you will," Micah mumbled to himself before turning his attention back to Briar. "Well, looks like I have myself a knight." "Just call me sir Briar the fifth." The boy said proudly, making the two laugh as the doors of the house creaked open. "You! Boy! What do you think you are doing here?" A woman's voice resounded as she approached the two. "Don't you know that the young master is weak? What are you trying to do, kill him?" She wore what a governess would wear as she does act as the boy's nanny and governess at the same time. She is … extremely protective of the boy. "Nanny Elise!" Micah shouted, smiling brightly at her as all the world's light seemed to radiate off him. "Oh, my poor boy." The woman rushed to him, pulling her skirts up as she gently began to check him over. "I think that is too much sunlight for you. Come inside, you need your rest." She helped Micah to his feet, gasping when she saw that he had no shoes on, "Goodness boy. Do you think you are so poor that you have no money for shoes? Did you forget who your parents were?" "Nothing like that, nanny." Micah insisted. "It's just … well, everyone in the house is busy and I don't want to be a bother." "W-who would ever say you are a bother!?" She shouted, ready to tear anything down. "Tell me their names right away and I will take care of them immediately. Was it you?" She was about ready to attack Briar when Micah stopped her, grabbing onto her sleeve.  "No one, nanny." The boy suddenly said, putting on his best smile. "Don't worry about trivial things. Otherwise, I will worry about you and get sick." "If you say so then, young master." She said, calming down almost immediately. "Let's go inside now, ok?" "Ok," Micah said, reaching for something on his left but his hand brushed against the stick and fell to the ground. "Oh? Where-?" He began touching the place where he sat, trying to find the stick that laid on the ground. As he stretched, the bandages all around his arm with deep red spots showed, just for a brief second. In that instant, Briar and the nanny exchanged unspoken words and the boy quickly bent down, picking up the stick and placed it on the seat as the woman exclaimed, "To your left, young master." "Hmm?" Micah reached to his left and felt the stick, at last, bringing back the smile on his face. "I can't believe I missed it." "It happens, young master," Elise said, smiling at him as Briar patted him gently on the shoulder, almost like he was touching a forget-me-not plant. So soft, he almost couldn't feel it. "I will be headed off to work, Micah," Briar said before rushing off. But he did not go too far. Once he turned the corner of the garden, he stopped then and peeked at Micah walking into the house with the walking stick to guide his every step and Elise watching to make sure he doesn't trip. It was only until they walked into the house that Briar finally walked out of the garden and to his house. ____________ Briar's family lived on the grounds of the Pober estate with his family. They have a little cottage to themselves and a vegetable garden that produced only the best vegetables. His father always said that the Pober's were overflowing with goodness and their family was blessed to be able to work for them. That is why he takes care of the grounds like he would his family. "Always remember that kindness begets kindness." His father would always remind him and that is one reason why Briar couldn't help but be extremely protective over the blind and frail young master of the house. "It shouldn't be hard to keep him safe, right?" Briar asked no one in particular, approaching his house as the smell of freshly baked bread filled his nose, making him run even faster inside the house.